


You had me at Hello

by inkavzpicuous



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Boys In Love, Falling In Love, Love at First Sight, M/M, The other lads are only mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-15 16:36:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1311697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkavzpicuous/pseuds/inkavzpicuous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis sees Harry for the first time at one of those posh parties. Harry gets him wondering why the hell he never believed in love at first sight before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You had me at Hello

**Author's Note:**

> My first time writing One Direction :) 
> 
> This started off as fiction, then became Cardcaptor Sakura fanfiction and finally ended up as Larry Stylinson because that felt the most right :)

“We talked about this, Louis!”

Louis kept his eyes firmly trained on his feet as he stood in front of his father, head bent down out of frustration rather than respect. He picked at the end of his hoodie. He couldn’t for the life of him understand why his father always gave him a cold look when he walked in in a hoodie and sweats. He was almost sure that comfort was a concept that his father had completely forgotten.

“You knew how important it was that you leave them with a good impression if our family. Good impressions are not brought on by asking for a second helping of dessert. And the way you behaved with that boy was appalling! I thought I raised you better than that. You have single-handedly managed to ruin the reputation that I had managed to build up behind our name. “

Louis sighed and tuned his father out. He couldn’t see what the big deal was, but his father hadn’t stopped his attempts at making him repent his actions since they had returned to their mansion after some party hosted by another faceless man whom his father insisted that they impress.

He was so tired of his life. Other eighteen year olds would probably be envious of the life he led – he had everything that any teenager could possible want. But the one thing that he wanted, _really_ wanted, was freedom. Maybe that was because that was the one thing he couldn’t have.

Being born into a family worth millions had its upsides, but he rarely ever saw them. Yeah, every once in a while he would receive the newest iPhone or FIFA, even before it hit the market, but that was about it.

“Are you even paying me the least bit of attention?”

Louis’s head snapped up and he nodded vigorously. There was no point in making the situation worse than it already was. Admittedly, he had no idea what he had done wrong. Yeah, he had requested to be served a second helping of dessert, but if they hadn’t wanted him to accept, they wouldn’t have asked. And he really couldn’t see a problem with his talking, just _talking_ to a cute boy that he had seen, and then asking him to dance. It was the bloody twenty first century! He couldn’t understand why people couldn’t be just a little more understanding of sexual orientation.

And for some stupid reason, that upset his father.

“You will go to your room and stay there until you understand what you did wrong! And I expect you to be on your best behaviour tonight. Do you understand? I will not have people look down on our family because of you!”

“Yes, father,” he said, softly, before turning around and starting towards the stairs, pretending to ignore his father’s furious grunts as he turned his back. This was the story of his life. He would be dressed up, almost every night, and be dragged from one party to another. He would be expected to put up the façade of the charming young man, pretend to want to be there, smile at everyone and generally look pretty. He would come back, late at night, and struggle to get his homework done before school the next day. The same story, day after day.

He was so tired of it all.

He couldn’t help it if he wasn’t the kind of person that was always smiling. He wasn’t one to look for beauty in people. He didn’t try to like them. Either they struck him as nice and he considered making conversation with them or they didn’t and they would be treated to a smile that he didn’t mean and then ignored. And if that meant that he came of as a grouch, then so be it.

He headed up to his room and fastidiously avoided looking into his mother’s room lest he caught his mother’s pitying eyes. She seemed to understand that he sometimes hated the kind of life he was forced to lead. He knew that it upset her, seeing him so dead, sometimes, but she never made a move to give him some space, some time for himself. He didn’t want to upset her, though. So he just avoided her as much as he could.

He walked into his room and sighed with relief as he walked into familiar messy place. There was a time when he promised himself that he would get around to cleaning it up, eventually, but then it had turned into a kind of safe haven for him. This was the one place that he felt comfortable being in. he had no façade to keep up, no image to uphold. This was where he let loose with his best friend. This was where he could burst out laughing at a joke and not worry about undignified behaviour. This was where he could forget about being well mannered when he ate and spill drinks down his front and not give a damn. This was where he could be _him_.

He sat down at his desk and pulled his laptop towards him. He still had three hours before he had to get dressed up and head downstairs for a dinner party that his father had thrown for all his business associates. He might as well get to work on his English essay.

*

Louis walked around the room with a false smile plastered to his face. He knew none of these people and, frankly, he had no intention of ever getting to know them. He nodded politely to a middle aged couple decked up like Christmas trees and stepped around a man with a cigarette in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other. He scrunched up his nose in distaste. He hated cigarettes.

He let his eyes slide around the room, taking in the drab monotony of women and men dressed up in their finest and flitting around the room with flutes of his father’s finest champagne in their hands. He couldn’t for the life of him understand why people would voluntarily choose such a lifestyle.

He looked over at the buffet table, wondering absently if his father would notice if he stole over there and begged to be given a chocolate éclair (he had ben craving one for _hours_ ).

And that was the first time he saw him.

And after that first glance, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from him. He couldn’t have been older than him, but he had to be the most beautiful thing that Louis had ever laid his eyes on. He wasn’t dressed in William Westmancott Bespoke like everybody else, and his suit was definitely not the most expensive or exquisite in the room, but he was just so _beautiful_ that it took his breath away.

He had brown hair that curled adorably, and a wide smile framed by dimples, but what really struck Louis about him were his eyes. They were emerald green and breathtakingly beautiful and they shone with awe as he took in everything in the room. He was Louis’ breath of fresh air. He found himself grinning like an idiot as he watched him turn in a slow circle, his hands shoved into his pockets, his smile growing wider with each step. He realised belatedly that his father would probably not approve at all of that. He realised even later that he really couldn’t care less about what his father thought.

Louis lost track of time as he watched him move around the room, slotting himself seamlessly into any conversation that he was drawn into. He was just so _open,_ giving himself completely to everyone. He had this warmth about him, this sincerity that drew smiles out of anyone that he spoke to. Genuine smiles, not the ones that were put on like a mask. Hell, he even made _him_ smile, and he knew that that was quite a feat. Or so he’d been told.

His world was perfect during those minutes where he just stood in a corner and took him in. And then the moment shattered as he turned around and caught Louis’ eye. He watched, his breath caught in his throat, as the boy’s mouth opened into a little ‘o’ as he realised that he had been watching him. Louis could feel his carefully constructed mask falling back into place as he continued to watch him with various emotions flitting across his face. He looked down at her feet and shook his head slightly, causing a few stray curls to fall over his forehead, and Louis found himself struggling not to smile at how adorable the little movement was.

When he finally looked up again at him, there was a slight blush covering his cheeks and his eyes shone even brighter. There was a small smile on his lips, and it was a different smile from the ones that Louis had seen him give that night. It was a smile that made his heart melt.

And as he smiled back, he wondered why he’d never believed in love at first sight before.

The rest of the night passed in a haze of tiny stolen moments, and when Louis was finally permitted to go to his room after most of the guests had left (including that boy), it was with a wide smile on his face, and with his heart feeling lighter than it ever had.

*

After a little sweet-talking to the kitchen staff the next day (honestly, he was still miffed at their looks of shock and fear when he tried to make conversation to them) they told him that he was Harry Styles, stepson of Robin Twist, owner of a small business that his father had recently acquired.

Harry Styles. The name sounded so lovely rolling off his tongue. It suited him perfectly, too. God, that much beauty should be made illegal, he remembered thinking.

*

It quickly became a thing between them. Louis would look out for him at every party that they went to, and he would find him, most of the time. He was well aware of how he seemed to light up every time he saw the boy; Heaven knew Liam teased him about mercilessly. He couldn’t help it though, and it drove him mad that he couldn’t pinpoint what it was about that boy that he had fallen so hard for, after seeing him just a handful of times. They hadn’t even bloody _spoken_ to each other, yet.

It was just that Louis was terrified. What they had was precious. He had no idea if Harry even felt a little bit of what he did, and he was too afraid to find out. So he kept his distance, smiling at him every time their eyes locked, a small wave hello and goodbye, and hundreds of silent conversations with their eyes alone.

He loved that he could learn so much about the boy, just by watching him. Wore his heart on his sleeve, he did.

He discovered that Harry hated champagne. He had watched as he had accepted a flute from a man that Louis had assumed to be his father and taken a tentative sip, before scrunching his face up in disgust and handing the flute back to his father, shaking his head wildly, his curls falling loose from their neat do. Louis bit the inside of cheeks to stop himself from cooing at how adorable he was. Harry had then proceeded towards the bar and pleaded with the bartender for twenty minutes before he had given in and produced a bottle of beer, for which he was thanked with one of Harry’s face-splitting grins.

He never judged people for what they looked like, or for how well-off they were, and honestly, Louis wasn’t surprised at all. Harry was just so _nice._ He’d be carrying on an animated conversation with the CEO of something-or-the-other, and minutes later he’d be standing at the buffet table, holding up the line, so he could ask that waiter ( _“Hey, don’t I know you from the other night?”_ he’d exclaimed and God, his _voice_ ) how his daughter was doing.

Probably most importantly, in Louis’ mind, at least, he seemed to be into boys. He had turned down every request to dance (and Louis couldn’t help but smirk when he saw a gaggle of disappointed looking girls standing conspicuously in front of him and batting their eyelashes). But then again, that might have been because he had to be the clumsiest person that Louis had ever come across. He wouldn’t ever forget the way he had charmed forgiveness out of that woman after he had tripped and ended up upending her drink down the front of her dress.

Well, that was something he could learn off of him.

*

Louis felt different. And he knew that the people around him could see it as well. His father was pleased that he seemed to smile genuinely while he spoke to people and his mother was ecstatic that the light had returned to his eyes. He smiled wider, spoke better, and began to genuinely enjoy people’s company. He even managed to befriend Niall and Zayn from chemistry, extending his circle from just him and Liam to four people. He wondered if it was just a tiny bit sad that he was immensely proud of himself for doing that.

*

Louis remembered that day with startling clarity. Obviously. That was the day that he had lost everything.

They’d thrown a party at their mansion, and he’d been overjoyed (as usual) when he saw Harry walk in. He’d had to go on a round of the place, dishing out hellos and pleasant conversations to people that didn’t deserve them.

He wished he had enough courage to go up and talk to Harry, but he knew that that was the point of no return. That would absolutely seal the deal and he would be so, so in love with him. He wasn’t ready for that, just yet. He just wanted to enjoy whatever thing this was that they had, where he could imagine that maybe, _maybe_ Harry liked him too.

Two hours in, Louis had given up any pretence of being interested in talking to the people around him, instead opting to lean against a wall and watch Harry as he danced with a little girl who couldn’t have been older than four. She was dressed in a little white dress and had ribbons in her hair and Louis genuinely couldn’t decide if she was cuter or Harry. He watched with a soft smile on his face as he placed the girl on his feet and moved awkwardly as he held her arms above her head, a wide grin on his face and little peals of laughter coming from her.

He shut his eyes and sucked in a deep breath and willed himself not to go into cardiac arrest, because it would be an awful blow to his dignity if his tombstone were to read _Death by Cuteness_.

When he opened his eyes again Harry was looking straight at him. He slowly walked the girl back to a lady sitting at one of the tables nearby and began to head towards him. Louis’ heart sped up. Was this finally it? Was he going to tell him to stop being a creep and to leave him alone? What if he told him that he never wanted to see him again? What if he walked up with a “Hey, mate”? Shit, Louis genuinely didn’t know which option was worse.

Time seemed to go on endlessly for him as he watched Harry slowly make his way towards Louis, his eyes not once breaking their gaze. He considered dropping everything and running, but he didn’t think he’d make it too far in his _extremely_ slim-fit trousers before he’d be caught up with, what with that boy’s mile-long legs.

He came closer and closer, but stopped when he was a respectable two feet away. Louis was proud that he was able to keep a straight face when all he wanted to do was fall into the boy and inhale that vanilla scent that always surrounded him.

Neither of them said anything. They stared at each other for a full half minute before Harry’s lips twitched up in that half-smirk that Louis loved so much (and his wide grin, and the subtle quirk of his lips, and that smug smile, though that on rarely surfaced, an basically every other little thing about this ridiculous, _wonderful_ boy) and he raised one hand in an obvious invitation to dance.

Louis’ breath caught in his throat. He knew that he shouldn’t. His father had been angry that he had _asked_ that boy to dance. Who knew what he would do if he actually danced with him, in public, at a party that _he_ was hosting?

He was positive that his mind had sent out a signal for him to shake his head, and so he was genuinely confused when he found himself nodding and taking the proffered arm and allowing himself to be led onto the dance floor.

The live band started on a slow number, and Louis allowed himself to be led as Harry twirled him around in the small circle that they had claimed for that dance.

He had never felt as complete as he did then, in that boy’s arms. He wanted to live in that moment forever, to bottle it and cork it and keep it safe and hidden and all for himself, just like Harry’s laugh and his smile and that look in his eyes and every breath that he would ever take. It felt like magic.

That should have been his first indication that it wouldn’t last.

“Harry!” a voice roared across the hall.

Louis’ head snapped towards the voice and saw Robin Twist making his way towards them, a look of pure rage on his face.

The entire hall had come to a standstill, and every person in the room was craning their neck to watch the drama unfold. Louis felt his face heat up as he felt at least two hundred pairs of eyes on him and Harry. The crowd started to part to make way for Robin as he stormed towards them.

Louis flinched as Harry was tugged back, none too gently, by the angry man.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he shouted. Louis could see the tears welling up in Harry’s eyes as two hundred people watched his stepfather berating him.

“You are not gay. I thought we established that. Or need I make it a little clearer?” He was whispering now, but Louis knew that the whole hall could hear him. It was so silent that one could have heard a pin drop. His heart broke as he watched Harry shake his jerkily, eyes trained on the floor. A tear slid down his cheek and he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around him and whisper comfort into his hair.

The man turned to address Louis. “I don’t give a shit if you’re the son of one the most influential men in the country. You keep your faggot arse away from my stepson. Are we clear?”

“Yes, we’re clear.” Louis jumped violently as his father turned up beside him. “I apologise,” he continued, “and I assure you that you won’t ever see such atrocious behaviour from Louis again.”

Robin nodded curtly at him before turning on his heel and dragging Harry with him as he left the hall with an anticlimactic _click_ as the door shut behind them.

The whole hall stood frozen for what seemed like an eternity to Louis. His head spun. _Wait!_ He wanted to cry out. _Come back!_ He wanted to run out after them, drag Harry away, kiss him over and over and over again and tell him that he loved him, that they would deal with things, that everything would be okay.

He knew that he couldn’t, though.

Slowly the hall began to buzz as people formed little groups in which to gossip about the latest development in their soap opera lives. It made Louis sick to his stomach.

He anticipated it even as his father turned to him with no emotion whatsoever in his eyes. He flinched and turned away, heading for his room before he could be asked, no, _ordered_ to.

He wished he didn’t feel so empty, all of a sudden.

*

He lay in bed for hours, having locked the door and ignored his father’s angry shouts from the other side. He would deal with that tomorrow.

He stared up at the ceiling and tried to feel _something_. He couldn’t. He felt like a shell of the boy who felt so alive and in love just a few hours previously. He knew that he wasn’t going to see that boy again.

Somehow, his future had never seemed bleaker. He was going to grow up, get a degree from some fancy college, take over his father’s business, get married to some girl – that was the worst part. He didn’t think he could ever relive the magic that he’d experienced over the past weeks.

 _Only Harry,_ he thought, miserably.

It was the same thing as always, wasn’t it? He could have his pick from the dozens and dozens of wealthy girls that came around all dolled up, but he couldn’t have the one person, the _only_ person that he wanted.

He felt a tear slide down his cheek. He’d never felt this hopeless before. It wasn’t a nice feeling at all.

He jumped and nearly screamed as a balled up piece of paper flew in through the open window and landed on his chest.

He stood quickly, wiping the tears away (where had the others come from?) and he picked it up from where it had fallen on the floor. He frowned at it before starting to slowly unravel it, making sure not to rip anything.

After a torturous few minutes, he finally got it open. He took in the neat handwriting.

_Come away with me?_

Louis scrambled to his feet and ran to the window. And saw Harry grinning up at him from one storey down.

“Hello, Louis,” he called. Louis saw the powder-blue Chevy Beetle waiting a few feet behind him.

He wanted to. God, he wanted to, so bad. But he knew that he couldn’t. _Shouldn’t._ Both their fathers didn’t approve. And as much as he wanted to give himself this night, he knew that he’d never be able to be able to stop with just one. He wanted Harry to be his, forever. He wanted thousands of nights like this, sneaking off on adventures with the boy he loved.

This would only make letting go of him that much harder.

Louis looked at Harry again and saw his smile falter. That was what did it, really. That was the moment that he would look back at fifty years down the line and think _yep, it was that one_. _That moment changed everything._

He knew that his was a set life. He would have to do exactly what his father had done before him, and what his grandfather had done before _him._

Unless he didn’t.

He was done with it. The lies, the expectations, the unhappiness. Giving the reigns of his life to his parents. Being slotted into a box that he didn’t fit into, that he’d _never_ fit into.

He was his own person. All he wanted to do was make Harry happy, and keep Harry happy forever. So why the hell shouldn’t he?

He grinned down at Harry, feeling his heart almost burst with joy as that smile that he loved finally turned back on, in full force. He put one leg and then another over the windowsill, reaching out towards the vine that he knew he could shimmy down.

Three minutes, two near falls and several little giggles from Harry as he watched Louis struggle down (Louis was going to smack him for that – after he snogged him) later, Louis was on the ground and jogging towards Harry.

He watched as Harry continued grinning like an idiot as he opened his arms for Louis to jump into. Louis could only laugh because he knew that his expression matched Harry’s.

He crossed the last few feet in one leap and wrapped his arms around Harry, nearly knocking them both over in the process. He didn’t know why he hadn’t been doing this all this while. Nothing else felt so _right_.

That moment was just for them. The thousands of nights that would follow were just for them. They would deal with real life together, but it could wait until tomorrow.

He pulled back a bit and smiled at Harry, a soft one, just for him. It was time.

“Hello, Harry.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am NOT implying that any of the people in this story are actually homophobic. It's called fiction for a reason.


End file.
